Safe and Sound
by coldthing
Summary: Stranded deep in Covenant territory with minimal firepower and no slipspace drive, Capitan Lem and the remains of the Spartan 2.1 project are in a world of trouble. fanfic100 challenge, slash
1. Solidarity

_Solidarność Records_

23.10.2552 2:21

Pelican video log recording:

_Wałęsa_ crash site:

Star System: Unknown Planet Unknown

Present: Captain Piotr Lem, Petty Officer (1st Class) Spartan 241

Overhead the UNSC corvette _Solidarność _skimmed over the atmosphere of the unknown planet in a low geosynchronous orbit. Clouds occasionally blotted out the corvette's flattened wing profile. The corvette class had in the past made up the majority of the UNSC's light cavalry. Now, they rarely had use for the small, fast, lightly armed four deck ships. Most were refitted for reconnaissance and covert operations. Only about twenty-five were still rated as ships-of-the-line. The _Solidarność _was not one of them.

Captain Potir Lem cleared dust out of his throat; he could see the outline of his ship from the surface of the planet; he shielded his eyes against the hot glare of the sun. Even in service dress he felt hot and uncomfortable.

He stood on a raised bluff overlooking the deep scar the _Wałęsa_ had cut in to the planet's surface as it had been knocked out of slipspace. His hands were stuffed deep in his pockets of his service jacket, and he had refused to let a medic look at the deep gash along his left cheek.

The _Wałęsa _herself stuck up from the ground like an abandoned toy, one wing still intact; the other snapped in the impact lay a few kilometers away. Above him in a dangerously low orbit, in an attempt to hide from Covenant patrols, his own ship the _Solidarność _was not in much better condition; it's Stark-Fujikawa drive almost irreparably damaged. A covert drop into Covenant territory had failed before it had even began

"How are we doing?" Lem cocked his head towards towering figure of the black armored Spartan next to him while still looking ahead at the wreckage of the _Solidarność_'s sister ship the corvette _Wałęsa_. The gesture was too casual to show too much of the affection with which it was intended. He wanted to reach over and pat the enormous Spartan on one of it's armored shoulders. But that wouldn't do.

The Spartan shifted its upper body in a movement that might have been a non-committal shrug. The light sucking MJOLNIR armor's active camouflage compensated for the movement producing a brief ripple in the light around the edges of its figure. Even in black matted amour in the bright to day the Spartan was hard to see. The only part Lem could consistently make out was the Spartan's designation number: 241, stenciled in red on its chest plate.

"Spartans' 232 and 177 were in cryo. If we find any survivors they'll be in cryo," The Spartan replied matter-of-factly, it's voice completely with out inflection.

Lem snorted in frustration, as his gesture of affection was rejected.

The two stood in silence for a while, Lem licked sweat off his lips and the Spartan stood mostly unmoving, it's outline flickering every few second as the camouflage system reloaded.

Finally the Spartan made a mostly indistinguishable hand signal in front of its helmet with one hand; Lem caught the faint outline the _Solidarność_'s second Spartan in its black amour sprinting across the field of wreckage. He felt rather than saw the Spartan as it began to move down from the bluff they were standing on.

"If you say so." Lem called after it.

The Spartan turned around briefly, the light rippling around its suit as it moved; it cocked its head to the side; The bright sunlight caught on the only piece of it's armor that wasn't matted, the bronze faceplate. "May I speak frankly sir?"

Lem considered, he was probably setting himself up to be insulted; Lem knew both of the Spartans allotted to the _Solidarność_ quite well by now. 241 were known for it's particular way of dealing with authority.

"Go ahead Spartan" he said.

"Fuck you, sir."

"Thank you, Spartan" Lem replied in mock exasperation, as watched the dust scatter as the blurred figure of 241 sprinted down the side of the bluff towards the other Spartan.


	2. Records

O.N.I Records: Classified ULTRAVIOLET

2.9.2517 14:55

111 Tauri Star System, Planet Archer, outside the city of Kosztowny

Present: Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Jacob Keys, Dr. Catherine Hasley, Spartan Recruit Peter 121

Lieutenant Keys watched the doctor snuggle deeper into her parka. It was freezing, wind whipped snowflakes around them. God forsaken cold, flat planet, no wonder most of the colonists were Polish. He pulled his own parka closer around his shoulders

Archer was on the edge of UNSC space, a quiet, inconspicuous mining colony populated mostly by hard working men and women, all in the middle of one of the biggest hot beds of rebel activity in UNSC space.

This was where the next Spartan recruit was to be found. " Peter 121" the doctor muttered. "Godforsaken hole"

They stood outside a small squat school building, on the other side of the street from its fenced in playground. Classes were just letting out; children were rushing around the playground, meeting parents and family members in the yard. They hall had pale faces, long dark hair, wore thick parkas and work boots. Keys spotted the boy he suspected was Peter quickly enough as he exited the building. He wore a thinner jacket than the other kids; his black hair was cropped against his skull in the style of marine recruits, and had the extra head of height that Keys was starting to associate with Spartan recruits.

He looked angry and kicked the dilapidated remains of a snowman in the playground over as he passed it. He hefted his school notebook's strap over his shoulder as snarled something in Polish at a clutch of older boys that approached him.

The clutch of boys gathered around him for a second, other children apparently sensing the sudden tension in the playground began to move out of the way before the fight broke out. The movement was so abrupt it was almost impossible to spot; Peter suddenly snarled something in Polish at the lead boy and dropped his school notebook on the ground. A second later he had taken the lead boy down and was cracking his head against the snow covered pavement.

"Damn" said Keys

The whole thing was over in a matter of minutes as the teachers emerged from the building; they pried Peter away from the other boy and led him roughly into the building his arms pinned behind his back. There was blood on the pavement, the other boy wasn't moving. Then the ambulance arrived.

The doctor made a clucking noise under breath. " I was afraid of that," she said, mostly to her self. "The psych eval said he had a low tolerance for stress" she paused taking a breath. "Come on Lieutenant, nothing more to see here"


	3. Equipment

23.10.2552 7:43

Onboard _Solidarność_

Landing Bay video recording.

Spartan 241 touched his faceplate against 177's sweaty brow before the medical technicians whisked the other Spartan away. 177's eyes flickered open slightly then closed again.

241 usually lived in a world of concrete compartments, this whole experience had blurred the lines between where it ended and the Spartan began. It found it very unnerving to be both the Spartan and itself at the same time.

"Alright kiddo, lets get that amour off" The armory technicians had been brought into the landing bay to help strip the unconscious 177 and 232 of their armor, 157 was still working on the Planet side salvage op. Onboard 241 was the only one left still in full battle dress.

241 undid the pressure seals at the back of the helmet and the recycled air hissed out, it pulled the helmet off and took a deep breath. " Fuck yeah" Sean 241 said. He gingerly set his helmet on the floor by his feet.

"Good to be out of this thing eh?" The armory technician continued, Sean flashed him a tight smile as the technician helped him remove his armor's bulky power pack and chest plate. In the field the suit could be removed in about five minutes flat, but that would risk damaging some of the suits more delicate electronics. Sean flexed his shoulders; he stood a good two feet over the technician. He felt like a piece of equipment being stripped down for storage.

Next to go were the shoulder plates and the gauntlets. He rolled his neck to get the cricks out of it and scratched his downy scalp once his hands were free.

Then he was pushed back onto a convenient stack of crates as the technician freed him from the boots and thigh plates; finally the last thing off was the codpiece. Sean shivered slightly as he was left only the amour's sweaty cotton under suit.

The technician threw him a black cover all. "The Old Man wants to see you when you're finished here."

"Yes sir" Sean gave him a sloppy salute.

'The Old Man' could mean either Captain Lem, meticulous and as tenacious as a bulldog, or Pete, who was broken in the same way as he was and moaned in Polish when Sean sucked his cock. The armory technician started to neatly pack away his, 177, and 232's black MOLNJIR armor unaware that Sean was starting to blur into 241.

His scrupulous compartments were breaking down. Sean, confused, pulled the cover all over his body, ignoring the fact that it was made for some one substantially shorter than he was. He shook his head like a dog trying to get water out of his ears. He headed for his rack to lick his bruises, find his ill-fitting service dress and wonder what to do about the Old Man's summons.

Sean had spent most of his childhood in the Spartan program taking grueling runs around the compound in the pouring rain because he'd willfully and deliberately disobeyed Master Sergeant Mandella; disobeying Lem's order was not foremost in his mind.


	4. Vacuum

1.12.2552 14:14

Operation: SEABIRD

Classified: ULTRAVIOLET

The first time 241 had met Captain Lem it hadn't liked him. The Pole had been in command of the prowler _Matta Hari _at the time. This was before 241 had been given the black amour, and Lem had been given the _Solidarność._ It had been in the cargo bay of the destroyer _Visigoth_ Lem had introduced himself to the Spartan 2.1s that had survived the attack on Reach, all seven of them. He had smiled a lot and 241 tended to dislike authority figures that smiled at it. Lem didn't look right, his hair was too short for his face and he was too scrawny for such a tall man.

The second time it'd been barely cognizant that it was Lem. The op that the _Matta Hari _was being transported for had gone south, way south. 241 floated barely conscience in the vacuum, with out an EV tether; it's thruster pack completely dead. The damaged, but still functional hull of the _Matta Hari _was tantalizingly just out of reach. Further out were the carcasses of the _Visigoth _and the unnamed Covenant cruiser they had been sent to capture.

241 watched as the oxygen meter in its suit slowly ticked further into the red. It was starting to have trouble breathing; blood was pooling on its faceplate. Its onboard health monitor informed him that it had major lacerations to liver and spleen, and a cranial fracture. In the back of its mind compartments were starting to blur together and Sean was starting to panic. It buried the feelings and calmed its breathing. Twisting around he spotted 159's limp form about twenty meters away. It clicked his COM on and off. There was no answer on the COM and there was no signal from the other Spartan's health monitor. 241 had no idea whether 159 was in the same situation as itself or unconscious or already fallen victim to the hard vacuum outside.

At first it didn't even feel the arms wrapping around his waist, when it did he finally recognize the outside movement it began to weakly thrash against them.

"Calm down Spartan!" a voice hissed through it's suit's COM system. The arms belonged some one in a battered FREYA EV suit. 241couldn't see clearly through his bloodied faceplate and started to panic again. The figure holding the Spartan steady gave a quick jerk on the EV tether connecting it to the _Matta Hari _and slowly reeled them in.

"Your hypoxic, stay calm"

This didn't help, 241's already cracked compartments flooded with panic and he pushed the FREYA suit away sending itself tumbling in the opposite direction. His COM hissed with static as person in the FREYA reeled out the EV tether again with short rocket burst, just enough to give it momentum caught 241 by the ankle.

The EV tether began reeling in again, the FREYA suit with it's hydraulically enhanced grip held 241 tight.

241 continued to struggle, before he, exhausted, started to drift off.

It awoke to the hiss of an airlock opening; some one slapped it across the face. Pain jolted through his head.

"Pull yourself together soldier!"

Its helmet was off; the walls inside his mind fought to rebuild themselves . Sean felt blood running down his chin.

A slap stung his cheek again, his head throbbed, he was awake, but still wallowing in his own lack of self-identity.

"I'm fine sir," he said instinctively.

"Your damn well not fine, Spartan"

Sean thought about that for a few seconds, and eventually agreed with it, he was far from fine. The walls shattered, Sean felt all him/it selves flooding out. Sean started to cry.

Whoever it was that had saved him apparently had not expect the massive Spartan to sag at the knees and start crying. After a few rudimentary pats on the back Sean felt a mouth press against his cheek and kiss him.

"Czynić nie martwić dziecko"

The person supporting him slapped him again.

Sean staggered, and realized that the person holding him up was still wearing the FREYA suit. He was too tall, too scrawny and didn't have enough hair.

"Captain Lem, sir, I'm fine" Sean started collecting all the pieces of his identity, to put back together at a later date.

He staggered backwards again, and Lem lowered him gently to the ground. "Nothing some biofoam won't cure" He flashed Lem a wry smile.

Lem had a few days worth of patchy stubble on his face and dark rings under his eyes. Sean doubted he looked much better with his bloody head and flattened nose. He spat blood out onto the deck.

Lem seemed to be contemplating his answer " Your remarkably glib about this Spartan" he finally said tossing 241 a can of biofoam. " Considering you were bawling on my shoulder a minute ago"

Sean smiled at him again, and inserted the nozzle into his suit; then into the wound on his skull. The pain stared to ebb away, but he couldn't think anymore clearly. He still wanted to cry. Felix- 159 was gone. That left only six of them alive, well there could be less by now considering what happened to him and Felix.

"Your not a very good Spartan are you?" Lem's voice startled Sean. The Captain was struggling to remove his suit, huge pieces of armor crashed down as he haphazardly stripped it off until he was only left in the cotton under suit. He sat down next to Sean on the floor and picked some gauze out of the medkit he had taken the biofoam from. He began to dab at the remaining wounds on Sean's face.

"No, I'm not, but you've read my service record I assume." Sean replied matter-of-factly.

Lem made a non-committal noise and picked up another piece of gauze from the medkit. "I'm sorry I cant have a proper med team here for you, but we're kind of cut off from the rest of the ship" a smile quirked at the edge of his mouth. " They'll rescue us soon I'm sure"

Sean didn't say anything. His head still throbbed. He felt confused, no privacy to put himself back together, no Felix, no Daniel, just Lem and his infuriating smile.

Sean wanted to stop him smiling, more than anything; suddenly he leaned forward and kissed Lem on the mouth. His lips were chapped and his stubble scratched at Sean's face. Sean didn't even need a whole hand to count the number of erections he's ever had, but this had seemed like the most efficient way to stop Lem from smiling.

Lem made a strangled noise of surprise and jerked backwards but Sean held on tight.

When Sean broke the kiss for air Lem wasn't smiling anymore, but he didn't look angry or disgusted, as Sean had hoped, instead he looked mostly confused and dazed. He touched his mouth

"Must be the cranial fracture," he said.


	5. Somewhere

Somewhere in Earth/Moon orbit

23.10.2554 7:43

Annie pushed herself off from the back of the newly opened airlock, feeling the sick jerk in her internal organs as her momentum pushed her free from the residual gravity of the Marathon class destroyer _Yamato's_ gravitational spin. Gene was just a few seconds behind her. Their armor was new, blue, like space seen from the upper atmosphere it was rated for twice the oxygen the regular suits, it had a backup re-breather, emergency thrusters built into the power pack, gyroscopic vision augmentation, magnets built into the boots and climbing hoots built into the gauntlets. All of it designed to make navigating in zero g easier. God knows how much the specialized suits cost, but they were the UNSC's last-ditch effort to make the most of their seven remaining 2.1 Spartans. The traditional green wouldn't have been very effective out here in space. Annie still didn't like the fit, but there was no time to quibble about things like that right now.

She landed gently on a spinning piece of debris and pushed off again, not bothering to check if Gene was following her. Of course he was. They did this with out EV tethers, they had thruster packs, but they weren't for this dangerous trek out into the battlefield.

Even among the most elite, the Spartan's, they were elite. No one else could do this, navigate in zero g, with nothing but their brand new MJOLNIR armor between them and hard vacuum, during a space battle. Sean and Felix always had conniptions in zero G with out a tether, though she wouldn't have minded having Sean with her here right now. His uncanny knack with machines would have made the whole mission much easier from the start. Charlie's probability bending luck wouldn't have hurt either. Though she would have given anything for it to be more than her and Gene out here in the middle of nothing.

They were nearly there; Gene dodged around flying shrapnel and catapulted himself forward, he caught up with Annie who was hanging onto a crystalline splinter of hull that had once belonged to the carcass of a Covenant destroyer

"Whoa" Gene said.

She tapped his faceplate for silence, though she'd almost had the same reaction herself.

Ever since arriving the ship had done nothing, but even doing nothing it dwarfed the entire remaining Covenant and their own. It had shot into the system, out of nowhere; a lone transmission ordered them not to fire, and then, silence. It had taken a wide, unstable orbit and since then had done nothing other than drive the brass up the wall with anticipation.

"How did the Master Chief get on that thing?" Gene wondered aloud, Annie shushed him by tapping on his helmet, but privately she had always been thankful for his constant chatter. The emptiness of a hard vacuum run would have been unbearable had it been with the silence that accompanied Ben or Joe, even Sean or Charlie's hard sarcasm would have been unwelcome. Their chatter filled the void.

"Ours in not to know blue two" she said

"Amen and pass the ammunition blue one" he replied. Annie could picture his smile as they adjusted the throttle on their thruster packs.

"Amen" She replied with a final adjustment to their trajectory and they were off at a high burn that would last for all of fifteen seconds before they would eject the external thruster packs and continue on momentum alone until they hit the side o the strange ship on it's next orbital pass. This sort of thing had to be perfectly timed, the smallest miss calculation would send both of them spinning into the earth's atmosphere, or into the path of the still fighting destroyers at the nearest Lagrange point. Grasscutter took care of that kind of thing, or at least the smartAI put into calculations what Annie and Gene did by instinct. He was loaded into Annie's suit right now, flashing a bright red nav point on her face plate with a declining point worth as he readjusted trajectory.

The point worth reached zero, Grasscutter hissed angrily in her ear, she grabbed Gene's hand. Annie pushed all thoughts of miscalculations from her mind and thumbed the trigger to set off the their primary thruster.

Thirty seconds later she discarded the thruster and felt Gene squeeze her hand even tighter. All of Grasscutter's calculations couldn't help them now if something went wrong. From here on in it was all pure Spartan instinct.


	6. Dutch Courage

23.10.2554 7:43

Onboard _Solidarność _

Med Bay Video Recording

Present: Captain Poitr Lem, Captain Ahmad Ender

Lem helped Captain Ender off his bed and into a wheel chair. His rank afforded Captain Ender the tiny medical bay's lone private room. His had been once of the first cryo pods found, the medical personnel had spent an hour repairing the damage done by the uneven thawing process brought on by the crash. His legs were still immobilized by freezer burn and post-cryo paralysis.

Through the thin walls they could hear the voices of the crew as more survivors were brought up from the crash site.

Thankfully both Spartans from the _Wałęsa _were intact, though one was in critical condition, but thankfully expected to survive. The other still under going cognitive tests to determine if it had suffered any brain damage from either the crash or the uneven thaw.

Lem brushed his fingers through his graying black hair and gave Ender's wheelchair a sharp kick. Ender grabbed the back wheel's handrails and tried to maneuver the wheel chair out of the way.

"You're a jackass Pete," He said adjusting his still immobile legs in the wheelchair.

"Just checking to see if you're still living" Lem replied. The wry smile he flashed Ender was completely obscured by his obvious exhaustion. He rubbed his chin again, his fingers scraping against stubble.

Ender's half smiled vanished and the Berber's face was suddenly sober " Funny Lem. Funny" he said and gave the hand rails of the wheel chair an experimental push. " Get that stupid machine to seal the room."

"Chernobog, seal the room" Lem said.

"Room sealed," replied the _Solidarność's _primary AI in a voice that sounded like grinding machinery. The noise from outside the room abruptly stopped.

Lem rubbed his hands through his hair again, and rubbed his eyes. He sat back on the bed that Ender had just vacated his shoulders slumped. "The _Wałęsa _is gone. We're salvaging what we can of Belobog's memory core for use in Chernobog "  
"What about slipspace" Ender interrupted him. " I don't want to stay a sitting duck in Covenant space any longer than necessary"

"The _Solidarność's _main drive is completely _kaput_. We can use the _Wałęsa _as salvage, but even with a rebuilt drive manifold I doubt we'll make it more that a few parsecs." Lem rubbed at the stubble on his jaw again. Medical personnel had pulled him aside as he waited for Ender to be revived, patched the gash on his face and diagnosed him with a broken cheekbone. Biofoam oozed out from under the bandage and down his chin. " We're in a bad place."

Ender and Lem shared a depressed private silence for a few minutes. Ender rubbed his immobile legs vigorously before Lem suddenly spoke again

" I want one of the Spartan's to eyeball the manifold before we bring the salvage parts in though" He patted his pockets and pulled out a flask from an inner pocket in his service jacket. "My _baptcha_ always said _wódka _was appropriate in these situations" He handed the flask over to Ender.

Ender unscrewed the cap "My mother called it Dutch courage" He took a swig and handed it back to Lem, who also took a swig before tucking it back into his service jacket.

They shared another moment of silence.

"Excuse me, Captains" Chenobog's grinding voice suddenly interrupted them. "Petty Officer Spartan 241 wishes to speak with you"

"Speak of the devil." Lem hopped off the medical bed. "He was supposed to be here hours ago. Let him in Chernobog"

The man that entered had to duck his head to get in because of his massive frame. He wore a rumbled slept-in looking service uniform; his nose was flattened and ruined against his cheeks. His scalp barely covered by a patchy goose down of red hair.

"Spartan" Lem nodded to him.

Spartan 241 retuned with a sloppy salute "Captain Lem sir, Captain Ender"

"I ordered you to report me to when you returned from the planet," Lem said.

"Yes sir" replied the Spartan.

"And why didn't you?" Lem gave the NCO a hard look

241 narrowed his eyes, his wide mouth twisting into a lopsided frown. "I didn't want to sir" came the Spartan's reply.

Lem opened his mouth, the closed it. " You didn't want to?" Spartan 241 was infamous for his dislike of authority figures. Something in his training never quite took Lem had his file, like he did for all the Spartan's assigned to his strike force, a list of demerits and disciplinary actions a mile long. Only his unusual aptitude for mathematics and engineering had kept 241 from washing out of the Spartan Program. Lem opened his mouth again to reprimand the Spartan.

"Eat shit and die sir" Said 241 before Lem had a chance to say anything.

Lem took a deep breath, he swallowed, 241 was deliberately trying to provoke him, stress and worry made the already prickly Spartan even harder to deal with. He knew how that felt, his own desire to slam 241's head against a bulkhead was barely held in check "Go eyeball the slipspace drive and the salvage parts, I want a report in five hours"

There was resentment in the Spartan's salute "Yes sir"


	7. Burned

When Chief Petty Officer Spartan 177, or Charlie, Chuck to his friends, woke up he was flat on his back and strapped to the medical be with hard restraints. He could barely raise his head. His limbs felt leaden, so much so, that his first instinct, to break the restraints was immediately quashed because it was just too hard to move. His back was throbbing with pain and his mouth was stuffy and dry.

He rolled his eyes round trying to get a better view of his surroundings; the last thing he could remember was going into cryo on the _Wałęsa, _in full armor; Then faintly Sean's voice and then he was here. There was a patchwork of cryo burns along his exposed left shoulder. His armor was nowhere in sight, he felt cold and exposed without it.

Daniel and Ben were playing bridge with the wheelchair bound Captain Ender and the ship's surgeon. The close, relaxed presence of the other two Spartans reassured him, this was a safe space, of course Sean was no were to be found.

"Finally awake are we Spartan" The ship's surgeon rose from his seat, neatly tucking his cards into the breast pocket of his scrubs, destroying Ben's attempt to look at them. "I was worried that you wouldn't pull through for a while." Behind him, both Daniel and Ben were getting to their feet, unsure of what to do in the presence of both their provisional squad leader and Captain Ender.

"But, your comrades assured me otherwise" The ship's surgeon smiled and began checking Charlie's vitals. He shone a light into Charlie's eyes watching as the Spartan's pupil contracted to a tiny X in his gold irises. He touched and pinched toes fingers and kneecaps testing reflexes, tone, and rigidity; when he was finally finished he undid some of the braces that held Charlie down allowing him to raise his head, neck and a bit of his shoulders off the table.

"What happened?" Charlie tried to say but it only came out as a strangled croak. The surgeon held a plastic cup with a straw up to Charlie's mouth. His mouth burned as he drank. He could taste the acidic tang of cryo gases at the back of his throat. "What happened?" He tried again. He could barely speak, his lungs burned.

Ben opened his mouth, but Daniel waved him into silence, the Spartan made a smile motion over his face. Charlie smiled in return.

The surgeon, oblivious to the non-verbal communication put his finger to his mouth. " Don't talk. Your esophagus was burned in the thaw"

Charlie nodded, understanding. "Can I get up?" he mouthed to the surgeon. His arms and torso were still lashed to the bed.

The surgeon could obviously not read lips, he looked confused, and Daniel pulled him back and translated.


	8. Necessity

Lem was interrupted from reading the latest damage reports by a knock on the door of his quarters. He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair back from his face.

"Come in" He said.

The door slid open and 241 ducked his head to come in. "I have the slipspace drive repair assessments you wanted, sir," the Spartan said quietly.

Lem looked up, Sean's uniform wasn't rumpled for once. "I suppose there's no point in adding another disciplinary action to your file. People are going to talk." Lem said.

241 shot him an amused look.

" I didn't expect that for another two hours." Lem held out his hand as 241 passed them over. It wasn't clear whether it was intentional or now that their fingers touched.

"There wasn't much to report" The Spartan replied. "The slipspace drive is in pretty poor condition, even with the salvage parts. " He paused as if for effect, " and its leaking beta particles."

"Wonderful a sitting duck with a leash" Lem flashed the Spartan a weak smile. 241 returned it. "Dismissed" He said finally.

The Spartan turned to go, a slight shift in his shoulders; Lem knew the telltale signs of moving from one compartment to another.

The Spartan turned back towards him. Lem looked up.

"Pete?" Sean's voice was hesitant, asking permission to use Lem's first name; when he didn't receive a reprimand, he continued, "Can I stay here tonight?"

Lem blinked, surprised, Sean rarely asked permission for anything in their confusing little affair, unless it was in sarcasm. If the Spartan wanted to stay the night, which was the rarest of the rare, Lem would find him having broken the door lock, even if the room was sealed, and stretched out, his feet hanging over the edge of the bed that was too small for either of them, let alone both of them. Then it would be only minutes before one of them, depending on who was more tired, ended up pinned face down on the bed or desk.

Lem put his papers and Sean's report aside. "Sure" He said quietly "Sure you can. I'll come to bed." He caught a flash of a faint relieved smile from Sean.

"You haven't slept since the crash" Sean said quietly, The Spartan sat down on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. He had dark bruises around his wrists from the hydrostatics in the joints of his MJOLNIR armor.

"Neither have you" Lem replied, he reached out and started to unbutton Sean's shirt for him.

"I'm still mad at you" Sean looked down his Lem's fingers working their way down the front of his shirt.

Lem leaned forward; his forehead bumped against Sean's, their mouths were so close they almost touched. "And which one of you is that?" a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth as he finished unbuttoning the Spartan's shirt.

"Eat shit and die Pete" Sean replied as Lem pushed the shirt off his bruised shoulders. There was a faint smile on his mouth.

Lem ran his fingers along Sean's scared, bruised cheek, they kissed, teeth, tongue, both of them trying to suck as much comfort and reassurance out of the other. It was a strange quiet little closeness in a relationship that by necessity lacked all intimacy.


End file.
